Explanations
by viperone
Summary: Response to Unbound challenge, first and last lines given. Grissom explains some things to Sara.


**Title: Explanations Disclaimer: Don't own it. Still.  
Spoilers: "Nesting Dolls", "Unbearable", "King Baby" Rating: G Summary: Response to Unbound Challenge, first and last lines given. Grissom explains some things to Sara.  
A/N: This was spawned when I wondered why Sara was being so nice to Sophia in "King Baby", so it takes place between "Unbearable" and "KB". It was largely written under the influence of cold medicine, so bear that in mind ;-)**

"I believe that an apology is in order." Grissom's low voice broke the silence of the room; over by the window, Sara raised her head in surprise. _He wants me to apologize? For what?_ Sara thought back, her body automatically snapping pictures of the open windows even as her mind examined her actions of the last few days. _Let's see...haven't snapped at any holier-than-thou supervisors or weaselly lab directors. Haven't gotten drunk, on-duty or off. Haven't killed anybody._ Her checklist complete, she shrugged.

"Alright. I'm sorry. Now, could you please tell me what I'm apologizing for?" Sara gave herself a mental pat on the back. Polite tone, polite words, nothing unprofessional about her manner.

"What? No, Sara, not you. You have nothing to be sorry for," Grissom stated firmly. "_I_ need to apologize. To you." He paused, carefully picking up a fiber from the bed and storing it in a bindle. "I never intended for my dinner with Sophia to become common knowledge at the lab. Apparently, someone from day shift was at the same restaurant, and thought that our eating together was a fascinating bit of gossip."

Sara bit her lip at his tone; his blatant disgust at the rumor-mill struck her as funny, though given the context of their conversation, she knew she should be more upset. _Must be a case of "laugh so you don't cry"._ "You, uh, don't have to explain yourself, Grissom. What you do on your time off is no one's business. Least of all mine." _Good. Let him know in a polite way that I really don't want to hear about his date with her._ Sara worked her way toward the closet, glad to be away from the windows. Nights in the desert could get downright cold, and the stiff wind didn't help matters.

"Apparently I _do_ have to explain myself, if I don't want people to think I'm going on dates every time I take a friend to dinner," he retorted with exasperation. Sara reddened, since that was exactly what she'd assumed. To hide the sudden blush, she took some more pictures of the flower vases scattered throughout the bedroom. _This woman had a serious love affair with roses._

"Sophia was considering leaving. I took her to dinner to let her know that I appreciate the sacrifices she's made, putting up with her demotion, and the switch to night shift." Sara turned to face Grissom, eying him cautiously. That sounded...like something a friend would do, really. Very platonic. But...

"You said she was considering leaving. She changed her mind?" _Why did you ask that? Why ask questions if you don't want to hear the answers?_

"Yes. For now, anyway." For the first time, Grissom looked at her. He seemed...nervous. "I pointed out that if she left, we'd be down to a very small shift. I asked her if she would mind waiting until we had some possible replacements lined up." He seemed to run out of things to say after that, and stared at the floor, his eyes tracing random patterns in the rose petals strewn on the carpet.

Sara suppressed a smirk; he just looked so _uncomfortable_. She couldn't resist getting in a little jab. "You better be careful, Grissom." When he looked up in confusion, she continued, "With thoughtful explanations like that, people might start to think you're a supervisor."

He tried to glare at her, but a small smile threatened his composure. "Well, we can't have that. I might have to start doing my paperwork." She chuckled at that, and he seemed pleased.

They finished up the scene, and were packing the evidence away when Grissom spoke her name softly.

"Yeah?"

"Are we okay?"

Her stomach twisted at his hopeful tone. "Yeah. We're okay."

"I'm glad."

The breeze blew the petals across the floor.


End file.
